The Babe
by santana the strange
Summary: 'You remind me of The Babe' 'What Babe' 'The Babe with the power' 'What power' 'The power of voodoo? 'Who do? 'You do, you do' 'Do what? 'You remind me of The Babe' (Jareth and Goblins - Labyrinth 1986) This is set many years before


The Babe

_Jareth hadn't thought abo__ut The Babe, not in a long time, at least not until Sarah had come into his life three months ago. The goblin king, who didn't actually appear to be a goblin of any kind, hadn't thought of her in a long time, but the dark haired, pale Sarah and her younger brother, the baby she'd wished away, reminded him so much of The Babe, that as he sat there on his throne he began to remember her. And with the help of his crystal balls it was as though he was looking right at her as he moved them around in his hand…_

Jareth had only been to this part of the Labyrinth before, had no memory of his last visit, yet he knew he had been here. He didn't like to visit swamp places like this, especially not so close to the bog of eternal stench, or whatever it was he had called this god forsaken place that appeared to be in his kingdom.

Making his way carefully past the bog he came to a small bridge and wondered why on Earth his goblins had made the bridge so small. After all they were a lot bigger than it was; surely it couldn't hold one or even more of them without crumbling could it? Unfortunately the bridge stood between him and the next section of the Labyrinth so it looked as though he was going to have to find a way to either cross it or go around it. And he would have to do so without falling into the bog, he did not want the eternal stench upon him. Yes he didn't mind being eternal himself, but he just did not want to smell for the rest of his life.

'Do I go over it, or around it?' Jareth asked himself, his long blonde hair falling straight, down his back, his long midnight black coat falling just below his knees. Luckily for him he was not like minded as the last Goblin King, who preferred to wear his coat all the way down to his ankles. That mistake had cost the former king his life and his beautiful smell as he'd caught his coat on this very bridge and fallen down into the bog of eternal stench.

Deciding the safest route would be to see if the bridge would hold out for his lithe weight Jareth placed one foot in front of the other and slowly made his way across the bridge, checking the grey bricked platform across the bog every so often to make sure it wouldn't collapse beneath him. And as he stopped in the centre of the bridge, realising that it did and would hold his weight Jareth looked down either side of where he stood wondering where it was that the Goblin King by the name of Gareth had fallen in. The former Goblin King was in fact Jareth's own father and ever since his death Jareth had been looking for him. He'd abandoned his Goblins, his collection of babies and had come out, here into the Labyrinth to see if he could find any news of his father. Not that he cared for his father much but Jareth wanted to know what had become of his father, what had killed him, was it the long coat? If he knew what had killed his father than he could avoid the same incident.

If only he could find something, something of his father's that would point him in the right direction of the fatal accident. If Jareth could just find something, a ring or the ends of his father's coat then he could find the location of his death bed. He could find his father's grave.

Finding nothing as he towered way above the bog in his tight black pants and frilly white shirt, he made his way safely across to the other side of the bog where the dark forest began. Except he didn't want the forest, he wanted the other side of the bog, the other side of the bridge so that he could search there.

'Father how did you die?' Jareth asked the ground at his feet, the bog below the bridge. For the many weeks now he'd been king of the goblins he'd wondered how his father had died, was it truly true that he'd died by falling into the bog? Or was there something more sinister at hand within the Labyrinth?

'Father tell me what should I do?' Jareth asked as he crouched down beside the bog whose stench was so vile it exploded bubbles of the green brown stuff. Legend held it that this bog would engulf a goblin or whatever other creatures dwelled within the kingdom and even one drop of the water from the bog could make the victim smell for eternity.

As it was Jareth held his nose as he summoned his crystal balls, they were his gifts from his father and they were more than just mere glass balls. They were magical; they could show him each and every thing he wanted to see. And they could also multiply, giving him not only ball but up to three. He had the chance to see three very different things, or the same image from three different viewpoints.

He loved these balls and wondered if his father had gifted them with him for a reason, did his father know his end was coming and wanted to warn his only son and heir to the Labyrinth? He did not know. He barely knew his father, but he knew he did not like the goblin man very much. That said, he wanted to know the cause of his death so he would not fall to the same.

'What do you think you are doing here?' Jareth turned at the small voice and turned to see an equally small dog wearing a black eye patch, and a small blue hat with a yellow feather within it. He wore a shirt of which the body was striped red and black, the arms a creamy brown and black stripe formation.

'Excuse me?' Jareth asked confused as he stood, holding three balls now within his hand.

'Oh do forgive me King Gareth I did not see you there,' the small dog thing said and bowed low at the new Goblin King, his eyes set on the glass balls. Oh, the dog believed him to be his father because of the balls he held within his hands. Had his father used these balls as well he wondered to himself as he watched the dog, his nose stuck to the ground it seemed.

'Rise I am not King Gareth, but indeed King Jareth. My father died many weeks ago and left the balls and the Labyrinth to me. Now what is your name?'

'I am Sir. Didymus, pleased to be of service King Jareth,' the dog said and rose as Jareth had asked him to do. 'The old King is dead?' Didymus asked and Jareth nodded.

'It would appear so. How well did you know my father Sir?' Jareth asked to which the dog shrugged.

'I knew him fairly well, he came out on occasion to throw his traitorous subjects into the bog, he used to stand and talk to me when he saw me, but other than that I hardly knew him. I couldn't say we were friends,' Didymus explained and Jareth nodded, as a thought struck him.

'Do you know if my father fell into the bog himself?'

'No that I do not know young Jareth; I do not remain at this bog very often you see. I am a soldier and I like to go on the occasional adventure as I am way past my years for fighting and there are none left for that matter. I have no use anymore.' Didymus spoke forlornly and Jareth came up with a suddenly ingenious idea.

'Sir Didymus, can I call upon you to serve your Labyrinth and your King?'

'Well yes of course, but what is it you would have me do?'

'I want you to patrol this bridge, I want you to stop anyone but myself and those given permission by myself,' Jareth said and when the dog, standing on his hind legs brushed his front paw across his face the Goblin King realised that it had a moustache, and he stopped wondering just what kind of a dog had a moustache. And how one had come here, in the Labyrinth. After all Jareth had studied all of the creatures in his Kingdom and had never come across one in his readings.

'Why thank you King Jareth you have given Sir Didymus a purpose in life once again! But I must ask of you, why do you venture into the forest through there?' The dog asked pointing toward the dark forest.

'I do not venture that way, I have come to examine the banks of the bog, for clues of my father's death. I need to know how he died and why he died so that I may not fall into his footsteps.' Jareth said and when Didymus nodded the king reached into his pocket and withdrew a dagger he had been keeping just in case, he lost his larger sword. The dagger was thing and would look like a rapier within the smaller creature's hand. It was perfect.

When Jareth handed the dagger to Sir Didymus, he merely stood there and looked at the weapon in shock. Jareth did not let him speak one more word upon their agreement and their matter and ordered his new bridge patrol man to get to work as he himself did that upon the side of the bog he was on now, careful not to let the exploding bubbles splash upon him.


End file.
